Fine Lines
by crisislikewoah
Summary: EO. AU. Takes place during S8; more specifically, during Loophole just after Olivia is poisoned, with an alternate ending.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Benson and Stabler are not my creations, and if they were...well, let's go ahead and say that SVU would be something completely different right now. And until I can afford to buy the rights and produce the series, Dick Wolf will continue to live up to his name. The nurse, however, is my original character and she will be famous. Someday. Maybe. But probably not. 

* * *

Despite what she liked to think, Olivia Benson was not invincible. That happened to be the reason why the woman was laying in the bed to his left. He glanced over at her. The medications she was on to counteract the poison she'd inhaled had her out cold. Or so he thought. "I can feel you staring at me," she mumbled, eyes still closed. Fuck. She'd caught him, and she didn't even sound fully conscious.

"I'm not staring," he replied. "Just making sure I don't have to break in another new partner."

He watched as she rolled her head to face away from him. "I'm still breathing," he heard her slur. He knew she what was thinking. She didn't even have to say anything. He knew she was thinking, 'Damn, I'm never gonna live Oregon down.' In all honesty, he shouldn't harp on her about it. It wasn't like she had a choice. That jinx of an FBI agent had put her up for the job, because she'd successfully infiltrated a possible terrorist group. But that was their relationship, right? Ragging on each other even though they had no control over things that had happened? "You're not getting rid of me that easily. Not with your bad luck," she said with a cough, smirking as she rolled her head to face him again.

He hated seeing her like this. Olivia and hospitalization didn't mix. She didn't look like Olivia - _his_ Olivia, the one he knew (and loved) - she looked way too fragile laying in that hospital bed to be his Olivia. Elliot heard her sigh, coughing a bit more as she did. It was apparent to anyone who knew her that she was itching to get out of her hospital bed, to get back to work. Back to her victims. "Yeah, well. Sometimes, I don't mind my bad luck so much." Elliot smiled over at her. The smirk on her face had turned to a smile that was soft and genuine, one he almost never got to see from her. He had a feeling that he was the only one who'd seen it in the past few years.

Olivia shifted in her bed, so she was laying on her side and facing him, eyes still closed. An arm was tucked under her head. "Has Kathy come to see you?"

Fuck. She had to bring that name up. Why? Why would she do that? To be fair, she didn't know. "No." Elliot shook his head. "Why would she?"

"You're still her husband, El, I thought she might be concerned. ...She does know you're here, doesn't she?" Elliot stared at a spot on his white hospital blanket. "El?"

Elliot's bare chest heaved with a sigh. "I signed the divorce papers, Liv."

That opened her eyes. Literally. Olivia sat up in her bed, breathing heavy with the effort. Her lungs were still weak with remnants of the organophosphates. "You...you what?" Her mind reeled. She looked down at his left hand. The gold wedding band he'd wore for the last eight years had vanished. No. No no no no no. This was not part of the plan. He was supposed to make things better with his wife, not sign the damn divorce papers! That piece of paper and that ring on his finger were the only things stopping her from ruining their relationship. Their professional one, at least. She wasn't sure they had a legitimate personal relationship.

Well. That wasn't true. They knew extremely personal things about one another, sure. She was the only one who knew that he had been facing a possible divorce, a divorce that was now imminent. She was one of a few people who knew about his fears involving his children and she was certainly the only one who knew that he'd once gotten a mani/pedi with his youngest daughter...and actually liked it. (As far as she knew, it never happened again. You know. As far as she knew.) Elliot was the only one she discussed her father with, and was the first to know about that small detail of her creation. He knew her passion for kids and how much she wanted to be a mom. They'd had a few discussions about her becoming one, much to her dismay. Elliot even knew that her guilty pleasure was old re-runs of Full House. And...she wasn't sure, but Liv had a feeling he knew about the tattoo she'd gotten down her left side a while back. She hadn't told anyone about it, and she certainly hadn't shown anyone. She had a feeling that he just _knew_. It was strange. Well. They had a knack for figuring things out about the other just by picking up on body language, and they'd had a pretty good track record of anticipating what the other was going to do or say. Or, in this case, what the other had already done.

They had a personal relationship...just not one outside of work. Probably because, for them, work never ended. And that was probably why his marriage had. (Hadn't Kathy always called her Elliot's 'work wife'?) Which, was a kind of bittersweet thing. She hated seeing him like this. He was miserable, and had been for some time now. She'd accidentally walked into a heated argument he was having on the phone with Kathy about a subject she wasn't privy to the other day, when she'd gone into the locker room after shift. Maybe, just maybe, now that this part of his life would be over, he could have a fresh start and a new beginning.

If it hadn't taken all of the energy she had to sit up in her bed, she'd be sitting beside his bed in the room's visitor chair. Maybe she'd have those twenty seconds of insane courage and hold his hand. Strictly as moral support, though. Her eyes searched his, though she - as usual - couldn't tell what he was thinking when it didn't pertain to a case. God. All Olivia wanted to do was hug him. Buy him a beer, maybe a few rounds. Kiss him. This divorce was making it hard on him, sure, but things were getting to that level of difficulty in her own head, too. That piece of paper and that ring on his finger had been the only thing stopping her from ruining their relationship, professional and personal. That, and it was highly frowned upon to sleep with your partner. The last thing they needed to do was prove the rumors floating around the precinct about the two of them and their little love affair going on true. That would definitely put a damper on both of their reputations.

Why did he have to sign the divorce papers? Why couldn't he just be as stubborn in his marriage as he was at work? "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

The two words hit his ears, and he thought of something a mentor in the Marines had told him a long time ago that he hadn't thought of in ages - "rule number six: never say you're sorry; it's a sign of weakness." But that was just it. That didn't apply to everyone, it couldn't. Liv was one of the strongest people he knew. Elliot met her eyes, and he knew that she was trying to figure out what he was thinking. At the same time, he just wanted to know what she'd do if he snuck out of his bed and crawled into hers so he could wrap his arms around her. That's all he wanted to do. All he had wanted to do for years now. Well. Not _all_ he wanted to do, but for right now, that would have to suffice. He didn't want to get to thinking about that little fantasy for too long, considering Olivia would probably notice the tent being pitched over his crotch and be totally grossed out. With that aforementioned bad luck of his, she probably thought of him more as a brother than anything else. He sighed. Oh well. "Me too." He didn't know what else to say. For the first time since he'd seen the birth of his twins, he didn't know how to hold a conversation.

Olivia kept her eyes trained on him, skimming them over his bare chest. She needed to keep him talking. Whether she wanted to make sure he knew he had someone to confide in or whether she just wanted to hear his voice, she wasn't sure. "What are you gonna do?"

Elliot shook his head. "I don't really know." Not a complete lie. "I have to find a bigger place soon. My lease is up in a couple weeks. I have to find a place with at least...four bedrooms," he sighed. Finding a place to live with that many bedrooms? Not a task easily done on a cop's salary. He knew it, and so did Kathy. "I figure that two of the girls will have to share a room, because a five bedroom is gonna be even impossible to afford on a single salary. Y'know, not that a four bedroom isn't already."

_Ask her. Just ask her. It's five simple words: Let's get a place together._

Liv nodded, taking as deep a breath as she could manage without hacking up a lung. "You should really stop smoking, you're getting a smoker's cough," the man joked.

That made her chuckle, which made her cough even more. She rolled her eyes, still grinning as she got a handle on her coughing fit. "Shut up." God. She felt completely weak, not even able to laugh without feeling like every gasp she took was gonna be her last breath. Her skin crawled as she reminded herself where she was at. She wanted out of her bed. At least just to get into Elliot's bed, to curl up with him. He always managed to smell pretty good. Even when he hadn't gone home from the precinct in what seemed like days, he always had this smell to him that made her just want to bury her face in his chest or the crook of his neck. She'd be able to fall back asleep without worrying about dying in her sleep (though the nurses and doctors assured her that she wouldn't) if she was tucked into bed next to him and able to smell him.

Okay, so maybe now her mind was starting to sound like a place where creepers hide out.

She shivered, and a wave of goosebumps washed over her arms. Pulling the blankets up tighter, she exhaled a little loudly. "I had the nurses get you a couple extra blankets while you were out. You looked cold," Elliot told her.

"These things are so damn thin that three of them equals one blanket that I have at home, geesh."

This was it. This was his opportunity. He pulled his blanket loose from his bed and carried it over to her, covering her with it. "Move over."

She looked up at him like he was nuts. "What are you doing?" Elliot motioned for her to move over. She did. He sat down. "Oh are you serious?" Her voice was full of faux disbelief and her expression was one of annoyance, though her insides were screaming with joy. He put his left arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him, and used his right hand to pull the blankets up farther.

She was acting like this irked her. Maybe he'd stepped over the line. He knew that Liv didn't like to feel like she was being 'saved' in anyway. She was an extremely independent woman, who knew how to kick some ass and watch his back at the same time. No matter what the circumstances, she refused to see herself as a victim of anything. But as he pulled her close to him, tucking her safely under his arm, he noticed that she'd relaxed almost completely. There was no way that she was legitimately annoyed with him. (Right now, anyway. He couldn't account for what could happen in the next ten minutes. He had the habit of royally fucking up by saying the wrong thing and the exact right time.) She was laying her head on his chest, eyes closed, and whether she realized it or not, she was smiling. Now _that_ was a smile he'd never seen from her before. "Jesus, your skin is like ice," he muttered to her.

"You're really warm though. What are you, a werewolf?"

"What are _you_, a glittery vampire?"

"No," she replied. "I'm a glittery zombie."

Elliot chuckled. "Just don't bite me, okay?"

"Not unless you're into that." She yawned.

...Wait, what? Did she really just say that? Did she just imply that...no, she couldn't have. Could she? There were always innuendos being thrown between them, but none quite as blatant as this. He chuckled, as a tactic to stall before having to respond right away. But as he was thinking of a comeback to that, her breathing had slowed, it was less labored than it had been just moments ago. Elliot looked down at her. Liv had fallen asleep against him. He'd never known her to fall asleep so easily. Usually, she suffered from insomnia. She had for years. She'd look over cases at home, writing down something that neither of them had noticed before. If it was something big, she'd text him about it, but that was rare. Usually, the brunette would wait until the morning when they both walked into the precinct. On the nights she wasn't looking over cases, she'd often wake up from nightmares of the victims she couldn't save, or thinking that she heard someone in her apartment and immediately grabbing for her pistol. He was sure that he was one of only people who knew those things about her, with the exception of their captain. She had no family to speak of; the people she worked with acted as a surrogate family. She spent Thanksgiving at Elliot's and Christmas with the captain. As far as any other holidays went...he honestly had no clue where she went or what she did. It wasn't for lack of invitation that she mysteriously went off the grid for those days, though. She knew she was always welcome, no matter the occasion.

Then again, her peaceful slumber could always be chalked up to the drugs that were being pumped into her.

A nurse walked in the room. Elliot glanced up at her, looking like the kid who got caught with his hand in the candy jar. "...She was cold."

The nurse, Vicki, just nodded. She swiftly changed the medicine bag on Olivia's IV hanger. "Do you need anything while I'm here, Mr. Stabler?" Elliot shook his head. "Okay. It's ten o'clock and my shift is about over, but another nurse will be in to check on you when she gets here. Her name is Alice."

"Sounds good. Thanks, Vicki."

The RN made her way to the door, and stopped. She looked over her shoulder and the man who had taken up a shared residence in his roommate's bed. It wasn't often that this happened, and when it did, the case was that 99.8% of the time, the people knew one another. She already knew the answer to the question she was about to ask, but for the hospital's sake, she had to ask anyway. "Mr. Stabler...do you know Mrs. Benson?"

"Yeah, yeah. We, uh, we work together. And it's Miss Benson, she isn't married."

"Work?" Nurse Vicki raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. She's my partner," Elliot replied. "We're detectives with the NYPD."

"So you're just partners?" Elliot nodded. "Hmm. Coulda fooled me. Good night, detective."

The tall, slightly overweight blonde woman left the room, leaving Elliot confused. What did the nurse know that he didn't? "What the hell does that mean?" he mumbled. It wasn't long before trying to figure out the reasoning behind the nurse's comment wore him out, and he gave into the night's impending sleep. 

* * *

Her coffee brown eyes flew open, but it was her gasp and body movement that woke him up. She'd jerked up into a sitting position, and that's how he'd found her when he woke. She was in the midst of a coughing fit, though it wasn't as bad as it had been a few hours ago. The gasp probably set her into it. "What? What happened?" He was a bit dazed, and it took him a moment to realize it wasn't Kathy next to him and he wasn't at home. He glanced at the clock on the wall. 3:24 am. "Liv?"

Olivia felt a hand on her upper arm and the man behind her sit up. "It's nothing, I'm fine." Was she, or was she just saying that to get him to leave her alone about it? Probably the latter, because it had recently been brought to her attention by a friend that her 'I'm fine' meant that she was anything but. And if a friend she hadn't spent a whole lot of time with knew that, there was no way that Elliot didn't.

El rubbed her arm a bit, knowing that she was doing her whole 'strong woman' routine. Not that he faulted her for that, because he knew it was just an instinct she had, a knee-jerk reaction - most of the time, anyway. And when it wasn't? That hit him where it hurt, every time. It made him feel like she didn't trust him enough to let him in. He knew that wasn't true, because there were things that he didn't feel that Liv should be burdened with, but he still trusted her, blindly, with his life. This...this was one of those episodes that fell into Liv's 'most of the time' category, he was sure. But if he was wrong, if it wasn't? Well, then he'd feel that hit when it got to him. "You sure? Y'seem kinda shook up."

"Yeah, I'm sure." She turned to give him a smile to sell her lie that she was almost certain he wouldn't buy. The good thing was, even if he didn't believe what she told him, he usually left her alone about it. She hoped this time, he would follow that pattern. He didn't need to know what sick and twisted horror story her subconscious had concocted starring the two of them this time. "I'm just...over-thinking a case, that's all."

Ow. That hit just got to him. He sighed lightly. That tiny little smile she just gave him? It gave her away every time. But he supposed that he'd just let her go on thinking that he believed her. Elliot laid back in the bed. "You do realize I _am_ your partner. I always will be, for better or worse. If you're having trouble with a case, you can talk to me about it. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know that. And thank you, but..." Olivia leaned back in the bed. "I'm fine, El. Really." His arm was still around her. How had it not gone numb by now?

" 'Kay. Good." It fell silent, and for several moments, they just laid there like that. His arm was around her and her head rested on his chest. It was a comfortable silence, not like the awkward or tension-filled ones that they shared so many times in the bull pen while pissed at one another. Yeah. Despite the fact that Elliot knew she was lying to him, probably with good reason, it was a comfortable silence.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Benson and Stabler are not my creations, and if they were...well, let's just go ahead and say that SVU would be completely different right now. And until I can afford to buy the rights and produce the series, Dick Wolf will continue to live up to his name.

A/N: I'm still fleshing out the plot, with the help of my editing guru Cara. We're getting things figured out as to where exactly this little story should go. Brainstorming is slower than we'd like, but it's coming along. As always, reviews are appreciated. The better the reviews, the better the update time gets. (; 

* * *

It was a good twenty-five minutes before he broke the silence. "What case?" Elliot asked idly.

Even though Olivia's eyes we're closed, she wasn't asleep. Her brows furrowed. She didn't move from her spot - the woman was much too comfortable and warm to do that. "What?"

"What case were you overthinking?" he repeated.

"Oh." He would ask that. Asshole. "The, um, the Shepherd case."

"Oh." The man ran through their case load in his head. He didn't recall that name being on any one of the manila folders that lay on his desk. "Liv, we don't _have_ a Shepherd case."

Okay, now he was just showing off his ability to store a massive amount of information in that big head of his. She wasn't aware that there was any room for anything else in there, with thoughts of the divorce and his ego taking up so much space and all.

"It's one of my rookie cases," Olivia replied, the lie bit of that word being the operable one. She didn't know why she tried, honestly, because she knew he'd see right through whatever she told him.

"Liar." God, she hated him sometimes. "What woke you up?"

She didn't answer. She just laid there, feeling like an idiot because she'd tried to lie to the one person she couldn't.

_And there she goes again,_ he thought. Next to him, tucked under his arm, was this enigma of a woman. Of all the people in New York, he had to go and fall for this one. The one person on earth that he just couldn't figure out. He knew what she was gonna do (or say, sometimes) before she did it or knew it herself, and could tell what she'd already done without her having to say a word. He knew her like that. She was his partner, had been for the better half of the last decade. Sure as shit he knew her like that. He had to. But things would be entirely different if he knew _why_ she did or said the things she did. That would likely that would take all of the fun out of knowing her, but it didn't make it any less frustrating. "We're gonna be stuck here a while," he said. "You might as well just tell me."

"Well," she started with a small, barely audible sigh. If it was this easy, he'd shit himself. "If I wanted you to know, I would've told you when I woke up."

He knew it. God damn her. Guess he wouldn't be needing those clean underwear. "Liv -"

"Elliot, just drop it, okay?"

He sighed. "Fine."

This time, the silence wasn't quite as comfortable. Elliot hated when she shut him out. It didn't make her a rocket scientist to be able to figure that out. _Though maybe that would have been a better career path._ Nah. She was a smart cookie, she knew, but rocket scientist smart? Olivia didn't think that highly of herself.

"You don't wanna be inside my head," she finally told him.

He looked down at the top of her head. He knew that tone of voice. It wasn't the loud, playful or sarcastic one he was used to hearing from her. This one was quiet, almost a whisper. Serious. That's when he knew that she was freaked out by something. Or when she was trying to justify murdering someone, usually him. _God please let it be the first one_.

"I can't be the judge of that myself?"

"For fuck's sake, El." Raunchy images flashed through his mind. _For fuck's sake?_ She _had_ to use those words? "I'm too tired for this. Can't you take my word for it? Just this once?"

"I could." And just this once, he probably would. If _she_ were in _his_ head right now? Within a few hours, the whole precinct would be joking about how the hot-headed and occasionally unconventional Iron Fist of Justice himself got his ass kicked by a girl.

Okay, so for now, he'd leave it alone.

He found some reason to change the subject, and they made small talk about random things happening around the city until he heard her voice pattern slow, her words start to slur. Eventually, she stopped saying anything at all. She'd finally fallen back asleep. He looked at the clock on the wall again. It was closing in on quarter-to-six am.

Elliot was so completely captivated by the baseball highlights on TV from the game he'd missed that he didn't hear the footsteps leading through the door. Someone's throat cleared. The lights from the hallway shone off of the visitor's bald head.

"Cap'n." Well fuck. This was great. Amazing, even. His commanding officer had just walked in on him cuddling with his partner. Suddenly, all he was aware of was the parts of him that were touching Olivia and how her cool skin felt against his, how her hand was resting on his bare chest and how her hair smelled while it was scattered over him. He was glad that the hand that once boasted a wedding ring was hidden from his superior's view.

Cragen's face was impossible for him to read, as usual. "Just stopping in to see how you two were before I head down to the precinct," he said, leaving the Elliot-in-headlights to sit and stress over the elephant in the room for a bit longer.

"Fine." Here it was. The only moment that Elliot had ever legitimately feared getting reprimanded by Cragen. They weren't looking at a simple suspension this time. No. He and Olivia were looking at possible fraternization charges and demotion, along with being separated and reassigned. _This is not what it looks like. For the love of God, this not what it looks like._ "Captain, I can -"

"I don't really care to hear it, Stabler. I wanted to tell you both at the same time, but your _partner_ obviously needs her rest. So, I'm trusting you to give her the message: neither of you need to bother coming in when you get discharged."

The panic was evident in his eyes. What had he done?

All he had done was try to be a gentleman and warm her up, and look where being chivalrous had gotten him. Canned. Liv always had insisted that chivalry was dead. This was probably why. He had flushed both of their careers down the shitter. Well, if Olivia's quiet and serious tone wasn't hinting at her murder plots against him earlier, it would be when she found out she no longer had her job. "She had nothin' to do with this!" The elder man looked down at his feet, hands still tucked in the pockets of his overcoat. He knew what was going through Elliot's head. And the twisted bastard he was, he'd let those thoughts fester in his detective's mind for a moment. Don chose this instant to look up and meet Elliot's glare, staying silent. "This isn't fair, you can't punish her!"

He glanced down at the woman whose hands, head and hair, normally a chestnut color but now appearing as a mousy brown, were sprawled over Elliot's chest. Perhaps the drugs they had her on to help her lungs recuperate we're heavier than he thought; the woman that raised hell in nearly every waking moment looked like a sleeping angel. "In our line of work? You, of all people, Elliot, were the last one I thought I needed to explain to that fairness doesn't always exist. I know this wasn't her fault."

Was he implying that he thought Elliot had _coerced_ Olivia into the hospital bed to spoon with him? Elliot felt his face and ears steam hot with anger. That was fucking ludicrous. After how many years of putting people behind bars for that very thing, was he now being accused of it - against his own partner? He loved her! "What the fuck does that mean?"

Don shrugged. "It's not your fault either, Elliot. And it's not my rule; I'm just getting hounded to enforce it, seeing as I haven't done a very thorough job of it in the past. I take orders, just like you do. No need to take that tone or use that language with me." The older man's voice was firm, but no louder than normal. Don turned and took a few steps toward the door before pausing to look over his shoulder. "Personally, I don't think of being made to use your paid vacation and sick days before they expire as punishment."

Surprise washed away any trace of anger on Elliot's face, and embarrassment quickly followed. "_That's_ what you're talkin' about? That old policy that says we can't roll over our paid time off?"

"Yeah. Were you under the impression we were talking about something else?" Don watched as Elliot sat there like the lumpy pillow Olivia was currently treating him as. He knew exactly what Elliot thought he was talking about. He knew that Elliot knew it, too. "See you in a month, Detective." He could feel Elliot's gaze follow him out the door and far as younger man could see down the hallway.

* * *

What the fuck was she supposed to do with the next thirty days, learn how to knit?

She had only been made aware of her forced vacation thirty-seven minutes ago, and she was counting down until it was over. Only 43,163 minutes to go.

"Stop."

She didn't look at the man laying in the bed to her right. "Stop what?"

She could feel his eyes on her. "You know what."

"I don't have even the slightest clue what you're talking about." 43,162. 43,161.

"I think you do," Elliot replied.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him turn back to the sports section he held in front of him. "Yeah, well," she let her head fall back against the pillow, her eyes now trained at the ceiling. "I think you're full of crap."

43,158. Maybe she could get her P.I. license. "You've been staring at the clock for the better half of the last forty-two minutes. Ten bucks says you're counting down the minutes until the next time you can walk into the precinct."

"Believe it or not, El, I have other things to think about besides work."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

Besides what kind of torture she could mentally inflict on herself in the next 29.93 days, or how much she hated that he was right? "Just because I don't have a husband or kids doesn't mean I don't have a life."

He smirked, glad that she wasn't looking at him to see it. If she was, she'd probably smack his head clean off his shoulders. "I didn't say it did." In the silence of their hospital room, the rustling of newspaper as he flipped the page was entirely too loud. "How many?"

"Forty-three thousand, one hundred and fifty-four." Olivia let out an all too audible sigh. "I feel like I should be knitting."

His eyes remained glued to an article about the most recent baseball game. "It's a mandatory vacation, not mandatory retirement, Liv."

How was he okay with this? Was it because he had four kids to occupy himself with? Well, wasn't he just a lucky bastard.

Maybe she'd get a cat. Cats were pretty independent, right? They didn't need as much time or attention as dogs did. And after the next 43,152 minutes, she wouldn't have much of either to give, though she figured what wasn't taken by work would be enough for it.

"You can't even keep the artificial plants on your balcony alive."

She looked over at him, the bewilderment written all over her face and her head slightly suspended above her pillow. How did he _do_ that?! Had she said something to herself without realizing it?

His eyes were still trained on the newspaper, a knowing grin pasted on his lips. "Did I say that out loud? Sorry."

Once again, her head fell backwards against the pillow and she started counting the holes in the ceiling tiles. God she hated him sometimes. Mainly when he was right about her, and always when he did shit like that. Maybe counting the holes in the tiles above her would keep her mind off of counting the minutes before she could go back to work. She sure as hell didn't feel like she counted for anything else.

Elliot looked over at her. He shouldn't poke fun. He shouldn't. Here he was, with four children to occupy most his time off. The time he didn't spend with them he had to use trying to sort out the details of his newfound bachelorhood. What did she have? She had her thoughts. And over the last eight years, he'd learned that Olivia being left alone with her thoughts was not always the best thing. He laid the newspaper down on his lap.

Okay. Counting holes in the ceiling tiles just wasn't doing it for her. She envied him, she'd admit it. He had a gorgeous wife, beautiful kids, promising career, an amazing house...the American Dream, right? But even now...she still envied him. His marriage might have recently ended, but he still had his children. And he had the month to start setting up a new life for himself. A life where he'd probably get caught up in the same predicament that she'd been in for years: whether to open herself up and let someone in while exposing them to the monsters of her world, or hide herself away to protect everyone she cared about from the special brand of danger that hid itself in her shadow.

It wasn't too long ago that she'd made the conscious decision to do the latter, though it seemed like she'd made that decision without realizing it way back at about twenty. Fuck. _Twenty._ There was no way that she'd just turned 38. She was too far along this path to turn back now; as she saw it, she was way to old to learn how to be any other way.

Elliot had spent his entire life doing what he was supposed to, and he had a beautiful family because of it. She spent her entire life doing the same. What did she have to show for it? Her eyes flicked back to the clock for a moment. 43,149.

Just a moment ago, he was able to tell exactly what she was thinking. Unfortunately, that was a fleeting talent. It came and went depending on...well, Elliot didn't know what set of circumstances made it possible for him to read her mind for a split second. He'd racked his brain many sleepless nights trying to figure it out. He always came to the same conclusion: none of the factors were ever the same.

He felt like shit that he had to be the one to tell her that her life had come to a halt, all because of some ridiculous "use 'em or lose 'em" policy enforced about a decade ago. As soon as the words "Cap'n told us not to worry about going in for a while" left his mouth, she muttered some bullshit excuse about craving a soda from the machine and left the room. He guessed she hid on the roof for just a few minutes before she realized that it was twelve degrees outside.

The question as to why this impromptu vacation was forced on them had never been brought up between them. He figured she knew. They'd joked quite a few times over the years about the old policy never really having been enforced and how they "probably won't see the day it is for at least another decade."

Not only was her passion (her life's work, really) been temporarily taken from her, the only people who cared about her were all connected with the precinct in some way and they went with it. Well. Perhaps that wasn't entirely true.

He wasn't gone. She had _him_. There wasn't a moment in the past eight years that she hadn't, and he doubted the time would ever come where she wouldn't.

He knew that this would affect her more than it would him, though he figured she'd react differently. He'd thought she'd get pissed and head down to the precinct, insisting that they be allowed to come back on the grounds that they'd forfeit their paid time off. He'd never seen her just...sit back and let something happen to her. Or him, for that matter, her being the pitbull with lipstick that she was. "Liv, look." Her eyes averted away from him. She was probably over analyzing things that were happening in the hallway. "Olivia, can you just look at me, please?"

She did.

"I'm kinda in a tight spot."

The life seemed to trickle back into her as disbelief danced across her washed out features. "Elliot if you are about to ask me to lend you money, your timing couldn't be sh -"

"No, I'm not," he interrupted. That gave her the kick in the ass that she needed to make it look like she almost belonged among the living. "Just hear me out."

Olivia exhaled rather loudly and rolled her eyes, but kept her tone as even as she could manage. "Okay. What's up?"

"Remember what we were talking about last night?"

"You mean when I said I wouldn't bite you unless you got off on that kinda thing?" Her brows were raised a little and her bottom lip was caught between her teeth so she could bite back a smirk. It was only fair, right? So much blood had made it's way to his face, giving him an almost sunburned lobster look, that she was somewhat surprised that it hadn't started to leak through the bandage on his forehead. "I don't recall that, no."

It took him a second to jump-start his brain after that. He'd figured that she'd be fuzzy-headed enough because of the meds she was given to maybe not remember that small detail of the night. Apparently, he was wrong. "...Not quite that. About my lease being up soon and me needing a bigger place?" She nodded. "That's what I meant by 'tight spot.' I hadn't looked at new places to live in over twenty years until six months ago, and as it turns out, I should've done my realty homework a little better."

"Okay..."

"Well, I never wanted to ask you before, because I had this crazy idea that you liked having days off and to yourself, so I didn't ask."

Just what in the _hell_ was he getting at? "Ask me what, El?" she questioned, her natural curiosity piqued.

"I mean...you know me pretty well. And it's not like I can ask Kathy."

"You tryin' to ask me to prom?"

"I have an ex-wife, three daughters and female best friend that I spend easily a hundred hours a week with. Now, if that ain't drowning in estrogen, Liv, then I'm not sure what is." He watched as the brow over her right eye rose. "My point is, you're the only one in that group with a valid opinion right now. You know things about parts of Manhattan that I _still_ don't know about, even after working here for twelve years. And, as it turns out, both of our plans for the next month just fell through. So, I was thinking, maybe you would be free to help me out with looking for a place?"

She was about 43% sure that he was only asking because he knew she had nothing to occupy her time besides the cold case files tucked away in a filing cabinet hidden inside her closet. And even if that were the case, Olivia knew that he meant well. That he cared. It made her smile. "Yeah, I guess I could do that," she nodded.

The smile in her face was one he was glad to see. It was genuine. He returned it with one of his own. "Really?" Elliot watched as she nodded again. Her answer surprised him. He didn't know why, but it did. "Alright. Thanks."

"But you know it's gonna cost you."

"How much we talking?"

"A decent cup of coffee."

His head dropped back as he exaggerated his movements that mimicked annoyance. "Ugh," he scoffed. "You're killin' me, Smalls."


End file.
